


I'll Wait for You

by lipah



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Full Shift Werewolves, Happy Ending, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Mating Run, Romance, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-18 02:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipah/pseuds/lipah
Summary: Then the wind whipped past him, and just like that Derek knew his mate was there. Except they weren't in the forest ahead of him, they were out of the trees behind him. So, Derek turned and left the woods.---Humans and supernatural creatures have a romance festival where they run to find their mates. Derek finds his mate right away, but the boy isn't ready yet. Derek is willing to wait as long as it takes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because of a conversation about mating runs and the thing in fandom that werewolves lose control of themselves so completely there is barely (or no) time to consent to what is happening. I like the idea of being able to keep it together and waiting. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Derek and Stiles have a four year age difference between them. Derek is 15 and Stiles is 11 when they meet. There is nothing inappropriate that happens between them at all. Just figured I'd say.

                The run was a tradition, a huge celebration that took place every year. It started small, a thing created to incorporate humans and supernatural creatures into one community. It mixed the wild nature of the wolves--which had been the dominant species for a long time--and the courting habits of humans. It was even held on February 13th, keeping all the romance together. It had evolved over time, slowly one day wasn't enough, and it became a three-day festival that ran from the 12th to the 14th. On the first day, people searching for mates ran, people decided if they wanted to chase or if they wanted to be chased. Anyone was allowed to choose which role they took, but more often than not human decided to be chased. Without the aid of supernatural senses, it wasn't as easy to pick a mate. The people who ran set out into the forest in the early morning, and those who chased, set out a few hours later in the early afternoon.

                Once caught it was up to the couples what happened when the chased was caught, but most of the time, they left the forest together and went to join their families. It wasn't uncommon for people to stop and consummate their new relationships on the forest floor, but it wasn't part of the run. It was just something that happened sometimes. Most people were happier waiting and having sex once they got home to their beds. Consent was a hugely important part of the festival, and there were lots of people on hand to make sure nothing illegal happened during. Many people also decided not to run at all, it was just as easy to find your mate or partner outside of the runs.  

                On the second day, people who already had a mate or partner ran. The couple would decide which role they wanted and then they'd run, many couples treated it as a rekindling of romance each year. Sometimes couples came out of the forest bloodied and battered, but laughing at the thrill of the chase. The harder the chase the more fun it seemed to be, but Derek didn't know because he hadn't run yet. The festival in Beacon Hills was one of the largest events in the United States, and it kept Derek's family beyond busy. There was no break for them from Halloween to Valentine's Day. It was just a constant panicked rush of holidays and celebrations until summer rolled around and his parents passed out for a few months, before they started the whole thing again.

                Laura would have to take it all over when she was older, but Derek thought she was excited about it. She loved the run, she loved the idea of finding her mate by scent alone and racing through the trees until she found them. Wolves ran as soon as they mastered their full shift, starting as young as 13 and ending with whatever age they managed it. Preteens and teenagers rarely found mates in their first handful of runs, even older wolves rarely found their mates the first time they ran. On top of that, finding a mate in a run didn't mean you'd be perfect for each other. People still dated, courted each other, made sure their personalities fit together, but a lot of the time it just seemed to work. Finding your mate on your first run was rare and special. The last couple to manage it in the Beacon Hills run were Derek's great-grandparents. "It means it more likely in our family," his mother told him, smiling just a little. It had taken his mother and father three runs to find each other, which was still considered fast.

                Derek was 15-years-old when he had managed to shift into a full wolf. His mother had screamed with delight when it happened, and his father had called him an early bloomer. He was the youngest member of his family to shift... since his great-grandmother. Laura had been furious, because she hadn't managed the shift yet, and was two years older. So, when the day of the festival had arrived, she waited outside the preserve, arms crossed, and burning with unconcealed jealousy. Derek had shifted, smugly looked at her, and then trotted into the trees. He hadn't thought about what it would be like after that, but now that he was here, he was scared. He took a few more steps into the trees, and sniffed the air, looking for something. Then the wind whipped past him, and just like that Derek knew his mate was there. Except they weren't in the forest ahead of him, they were out of the trees behind him. So, Derek turned and left the woods. "Derek?" Laura called, as she watched him move through the crowds of people. He heard his mother call his name a moment later, but he kept moving forward. He found the scent suddenly, in the form of a young boy with hair buzzed short and wide bright amber eyes.

                Derek moved toward him, and when the boy noticed him, his face broke into a huge smile. "Mum! Look a wolf!" he said, pointing toward Derek.

                "Oh, hello," the woman said, she had the same brown hair and amber eyes. "Shouldn't you be running?" Derek looked from her to the boy and then back again, and she seemed to realise what he meant. Her mouth turned into a small o, and she nodded her head. To Derek's surprise, the boy realised what was happening too.

                "I'm not ready yet," he said. Derek turned and looked at the boy, who seemed a little sad by the statement. Derek knew as soon as he saw the boy that he was too young. He was maybe 10 or 11, still too young and too small, but so full of bright wonderful promise. So, Derek rubbed himself along the boy's side, making him laugh and run his fingers through Derek's fur. It was a promise for another year and another meeting. Derek turned and went back to his mother's side, where he spent the rest of the day. That night, he told his mother about the boy with the amber eyes, and bright smile. Talia ran her fingers through Derek's hair and smiled down at him.

                "I'm so happy for you, pup," she whispered and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Derek dreamt of the boy that night, the two of them sitting together and reading comic books. He dreamt innocently, and he dreamt kindly. He dreamt a friendship that would bloom into love when the time was right.

***

                Derek walked Laura to the edge of the forest for her first run, waiting with her as she vibrated with excitement. Then once she had disappeared he went walking. The boy was there again the next year, a little bigger with a chemical tint to his scent that hadn't been there last time. Derek moved through the crowds until he found him again, the boy was sitting with his mother again, but this time there was a police officer with them. The boy smiled widely when he saw Derek there. "Mum! He came back!" his mate said excitedly. The deputy and his wife both looked over at Derek, who tilted his head to the side.

               "Hello again," the boy's mother said and patted the ground between her and the boy. Derek inched forward slowly, watching to make sure the deputy didn't get upset, and when it seemed okay he settled between the boy and his mother. Derek spent the day there, with his mate's family, too scared to shift back because of his age. He was keenly aware of the difference, not huge and when they were older, it would be unimportant, but Derek was 16 and his mate was 12. So, Derek stayed a wolf, and the boy was thrilled to have him there. It was late that night when the boy looked at him sadly and told him again.

                "I'm not ready yet." Derek nodded his head, and the boy smiled at him. "I'll be ready one day. Promise." Derek rubbed against the boy and nodded a second time; Derek clung to the promise as he went to find his own family. When he was back at home and in bed, he realised he didn't even know his mate's name. No one had said it, and Derek had no way to ask. He fell asleep wondering what matched the boy's face.

***

                Derek thought about not shifting the next year, but he was 17 now and his family joked that he had resting murderer face, so he turned into a wolf. He walked Laura to the edge of the forest and watched her race off into the trees for the second year in a row. Derek found the boy again, this time he was sitting with another boy, and when Derek appeared the second boy screamed. "That's my wolf!" his mate said, his voice full of pride. Derek preened at the sound, wanting to curl up on the boy's lap.

                "He's huge!" the other boy said, scooting back as Derek approached.

                "He's getting pretty big," his mate agreed. His mate had grown too, like teenagers did, quickly and seemingly out of sight. His limbs were long and awkward; his movements were sharp and panicked, even when he didn't seem to feel that way. Derek sat on the ground with the two boys and by the end of the day, Derek knew the friend's name was Scott, but still didn't know his mate's name.

                "Come on, St--" Scott had started to say, but his mate reached out and slapped his hand over Scott's mouth.

                "No!" he cried and shook his head. Derek stared at him, head cocked to the side, but his mate just smiled softly and said.

                "I'm not ready yet." Derek huffed, wanting to be upset that his mate was like this, but instead he found it endearing. Derek rub against him again, making his mate laugh, and then he went back to find his family. Laura had returned alone, but not unhappy about it.

                "You're so lame," she said when Derek came downstairs for dinner.

                "At least I've found my mate," he said.

                "You could talk to him," she said.

                "He's still young," Derek answered.

                "Oh, like you're so fucking old," Laura said and laughed.

                "He's probably only 13," Derek said and Laura stopped laughing.

                "Okay... that's a little young for a 17-year-old. Why don't you go see him outside the festival? I bet you'd find him around town pretty easily."

                "He's said he isn't ready, I don't want him to think I'm trying to force something," Derek answered.

                "You could be friends," Laura said.

                "We'll get there at some point," Derek told her and she huffed out a small laugh.

                "You're so sappy," she told him and took her dinner out into the living room.

***

                The next year Derek had to help with the festival, setting up tables and decorations, so it took longer to run off to find his mate in the crowds. He walked Laura and this year his uncle Peter--who had decided to try doing the run at home this year--to the edge of the forest. He watched them disappear in different directions and then he turned and went to find the boy. Scott was with him again, the two sitting and clearly waiting for Derek to arrive. "Wolf!" Scott called when he saw him. Derek trotted over to them, collapsing onto his side next to his mate.

                "Geez, I've got myself a lazy wolf," his mate said. Derek huffed and then snuffled against the side of his mate's leg. He laughed and ran his fingers through Derek's fur until Derek dozed off. He woke up a few hours later, with both Scott and his mate leaning against his side.

                "Sorry dude, is this weird?" Scott asked, "you're just really warm." Derek didn't move and they took it as a sign that he didn't mind them there. Derek nudged his nose against his mate's hand, making the boy jump and then look embarrassed.

                "I'm not ready yet," he said very softly, and Derek nodded. He wasn't trying to force anything; he just wanted a moment of closeness. His mate wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and hugged him. "Thank you," his mate said. Derek left them when he heard Peter howl triumphantly from beyond from the forest. Laura returned alone, but Peter came back with a man about his age with dirty blonde hair and stubble. Talia was thrilled, hugging both Peter and his mate, saying that it was time Peter stopped whoring around.

                "Are you jealous?" Laura asked later when they were sitting in the living room, long after their parents had gone to bed.

                "Jealous?"

                "Of Peter," she added. "I am."

                "A little," Derek confessed. "I... I would like to be with my mate, but--"

                "Yeah, I know, he's too young," Laura answered and sighed. "I thought that maybe since it was so easy for you, it might be easy for me too. Then, Peter shows up runs and found a mate, just like that."

                "Peter's been running in New York for years," Derek said. "Maybe switch placed with him? Run out there." Laura snorted and rolled her eyes.

                "Could you imagine the scandal if the future alpha of Beacon Hills found her mate in another territory?" Laura said.

                "What would the neighbours think," Derek said dramatically making Laura laugh.

                "We'd be an embarrassment, Derek!" she told him.

                "Can you two shut up?!" Cora shouted from the top of the stairs. "No one cares about your weird teenager existential dread! Some of us are trying to sleep!"

                "Good use of existential, sweetie" their father called from his bedroom, making Cora groan and storm off back to her bedroom. She slammed her door so hard that Derek was sure he heard the wood crack.

                "Grumpy," Laura said, rolling her eyes.

                "She'll get it someday," Derek said and smiled a little.

                "I wasn't that dramatic," Laura said confidently.

                "Yes you were!" their mother called. "Derek is my only drama free child!" Laura groaned, just like Cora had, and got off the couch.

                "You're nosy, mum!" Laura said and then turned to Derek again. "Well night, baby bro, have fun pining after your jailbait."

                "Don't call him that," Derek mumbled.

                "Then give me a name to call him," she said as she left the room. Derek sighed, sinking down into the couch, and staring at the ceiling. Someday, he'd have his name someday, but for now, mate sounded just fine.

***

                The following year, Derek caught his mate's scent as soon as he arrived, stronger and closer to the trees. He helped his mother for a few hours in the morning, realising suddenly that his mate was _in_ the forest this year. His mate was running this year. "Are you alright?" Talia asked when Derek's heart rate spiked.

                "He's running," he said and Talia grinned at him.

                "Go get ready!" she said. "Go on!" Derek nodded, ducking into one of the tents to strip out of his clothing and shift into wolf form. He and Laura walked to the edge of the trees, both humming with excitement, and then they ran. Derek caught his mates scent instantly, trailing into the trees, and Derek chased it. He only ran for 15 minutes, and then he found his mate, standing in the middle of a clearing. He turned as soon as he heard Derek and he smiled. He was still gangly, with limbs too long and his hair buzzed short. His mate lifted his hands up in front of him, and his scent turned suddenly.

                "I'm sorry," he said, and Derek's heart lurched in his chest. It wasn't uncommon for potential mates to reject their suitors, but Derek hadn't let himself entertain the idea so far. The idea that his mate didn't want him terrified him, that his mate thought he wasn't good enough or was too weak or clingy, or-- "I'm... I'm not ready yet." Derek was instantly relieved because that was fine, he would always wait for his mate to be ready. Derek walked toward him, slowly and carefully, and then rubbed against his mate's side. "Not mad then?" Derek just huffed and shook his head. They sat in the forest together, Derek's head in his mate's lap, until the sun started to set and they trudged out together. His mate ran his hand over Derek's head and then waved as he hurried over to his parents. Derek turned to see his father standing and watching him. He smiled sadly at Derek, but Derek ignored him in favour of going to get dressed. No one said anything to Derek, which Derek thought might have actually been worse.  

***

                His mate ran again the next year, the same way he had before, straight into the trees and then he waited. Derek found him there, sat at the edge of the clearing and listened to his mate; embarrassingly say once again, "I'm not ready yet." Derek just agreed, ready to hear the words, and moved toward him. His mate smiled at him, sat down and offered Derek a sandwich he'd pulled from his bag. "Like my hoodie?" his mate asked, tugging at one of the too long sleeves. It was bright red, making him stand out against the forest. "Is Little Red Riding Hood offensive?" he asked after a minute, and Derek snorted. "What? It's a valid question." Derek just munched on the food and listened to his mate ramble.

                "Scott's running this year, well... kind of. He's got asthma, so he's really meandering this year. His mum hoped he'd outgrow it, but it seems like it's getting worse you know? Well, he has a girlfriend now, she's running too this year. They're cute; I dunno how it's going to go. I'm not even really sure why they both decided to run anyway, something about the experience probably. I hope neither of them get picked, let them have a little of that teen romance." Derek looked up at his mate, whined low in his throat, hoping to convey his question. His mate looked down at him and blinked a few times.

                "Oh, no, dude. I don't need that stuff, I've never wanted that, you know? I've had a mate since I was 11; I've had the option of romance for ages, but... I dunno. There's just... I'm sorry. You're being so patient with me, maybe I should just--" Derek growled low in his throat, making his mate look down at him. "Doesn't seem fair to you," the boy said softly. Derek could hear the way his mate's heart pounded, panicked and upset. Derek didn't want his mate to bond with him, just because he felt guilty, so Derek rolled onto his side and nuzzled against him. "How are you this nice?" he asked, and Derek huffed. He wanted to tell his mate that most people said he was an asshole, but instead just cuddled closer. Derek didn't need romance either, not when forever smelt this good.

***

                Derek followed his mate's scent deeper into the woods the next year, finding him sitting on a picnic blanket. He was wearing his Red Riding Hoodie and grinned when Derek tugged at it. "I brought food, Big Bad! And a blanket to keep the water off my ass," he said, waving a sandwich at Derek. "I made some and stole some stuff from the catering tables." Derek pressed against his mate's side, breathing in deep breaths of his scent, pleased to be there at all. Derek thought, that someday, another wolf was going to realise how wonderful his mate smelt and would try to take him away. It wasn't uncommon for there to be fights over mates; the possibility was there, that multiple wolves thought the person smelt good enough to try for. Besides, his mate was smart and funny, with a quick wit and cutting words. He was perfect, Derek thought, as the two of them dozed in a patch of sunlight coming through the trees.

                It was easy to ignore the other sounds of the forest, where some wolves and their mates consummated their relationships on the forest floor. His mate rolled onto his side and then sighed. "If I can hear the sex, it must be awful for you," he said, and then shouted, "Get a room you animals!"

                "Mind your own business!" someone else yelled back at him.

                "You're fucking our mother!" his mate shouted, seemed slightly stunned by what he had said, and then added, "fucking on the ground is essentially making Mother Earth part of your sex life! Our mother doesn't want this!"

                "Shut the fuck up!" the person yelled back, but his mate was laughing too hard to hear it.

                "What the hell is wrong with me? I'm sorry, if you make me your mate, you're getting a mate with a broken brain," he said and rolled onto his side. Derek leant forward and pressed his nose to his mate's cheek. Derek licked the spot a second later before he pulled back and blinked at his mate. "I'm not ready yet," his mate whispered, and Derek nodded.

                Derek ate dinner later that night, his sisters and cousins around the table with him, the adults were still out drinking and celebrating. "Are you sure he even wants to be your mate?" his cousin Jen asked, waving a roll at him. "I mean, it's been years, that's pretty weird."

                "He's a weird kid," Derek answered, but the question sat heavily in his chest.

                "I've never heard of anything like it before," Geoff said. "Maybe he thinks you're too weird, you do look like a serial killer."

                "Come on, leave him alone," Laura snapped, and they did, because she was in charge. Derek knew people whispered about him, about the way his mate kept him at arm's length. He knew they talked about the way Derek didn't seek out his mate or try to talk him into mating, but Derek didn't want that. Derek wanted his mate to feel ready; he wanted his mate to tell him that he wanted to be with Derek, just as much as Derek wanted to be with him.

***

                It was six months later when Derek's mother took down a rogue alpha after it bit a handful of people in town. They were folded into the pack and slipped into place like they belonged. Scott was one of them. He was polite when he met Derek, smiling and kind, he volunteered to help Derek set up for the run the next year. Derek accepted his help but didn't mention that he was the wolf. Even though part of him was desperate to know the name of his mate, a larger part of him felt like that was a violation of trust they had formed. So, Derek didn't ask. He didn't ask for his mate's name or ask for Scott to explain who the names belonged to when he talked about his friends.

                Derek realised part way through the first morning of the festival, as he set up that he couldn't find his mates scent. He glanced through the crowds, finding other scents he knew, his mate's parents were both there, but his mate wasn't. There was just a lingering smell of him and the warm smell of magic. "Derek? Are you okay?" Scott asked, holding an arm full of tablecloths.

                "He's not here," Derek said.

                "Who's not here?"

                "My mate," he answered.

                "I didn't know you had a mate," Scott said.

                "Derek found his mate years ago, they're just weird," Cora said.

                "Oh, that's cool," Scott said and went back to setting up tables. Derek left them to finish setting up, shifted, and went searching for his mate's parents. He found them; sitting on the grass in the same place Derek had found them for the first time. His mate's mother smiled brightly at him and waved him closer.

                "He is away this year," she said, digging into her bag. "He asked us to give you this if we saw you!" A second later she pulled out a black t-shirt, with _"I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate"_ written in Star Wars font across it. It was permeated in his mate's scent, along with the strange smell of magic.

                "One of his favourites," his mate's father said. Derek realised the man was wearing the sheriff's uniform now. He smiled at Derek, a small one, that Derek thought was wonderfully kind. Derek shuffled a little, worried to take the shirt like his own spit would wreck the scent trapped in the fabric. He barked once at them, and then turned and hurried off. He returned a few minutes later with a plastic bag between his teeth. His mate's mother laughed, but carefully slipped the shirt inside for him. His mate's father gave him a note that was folded and sealed. Derek spent the rest of the festival carrying the shirt around in the bag, even after he'd shifted back and went back to help out. He spent most of the day filling drinks and checking on the food stands. He kept busy until Laura howled victoriously from the forest, then he went to the edge of the trees and waited for her to emerge. She appeared about ten minutes later, walking alongside a blonde man that Derek recognized from when he was in school. Talia was overjoyed, the whole pack was, the future Alpha finding her mate was a big deal. Derek tucked the shirt into his car when he had a moment, sitting in the backseat and carefully opening the letter.

                _Dear Wolf o' Mine,_

_Sorry, I'm not around this year; I spent a lot of time thinking about not being there. It was a hard choice. But, I'm doing this thing... it's important, and it's the only time of the year that I'm off school and these lessons I'm taking were available. I miss you... I hope you got the shirt; I slept it in for like a week before I left. I'm sure if you got the letter you got the shirt, but anyway. It has gotta smells a lot like me, hopefully, that will carry your weird wolfy self until I can see you next. I'm not ready yet, but I'll get there soon._

Derek held the letter in his hands, scanning the words over and over, before he put it away, and went and joined the pack in their celebration. Derek stayed close to his mother and father, away from the side glances at him, and the comparisons that were thrown between him and Laura.

                "At least she could claim her mate," someone said.

                "Maybe there is something wrong with Derek?" someone else said.

                "Maybe he's really as angry as he looks."

                "He probably has a short temper."

                "Maybe he's lying about the mate thing altogether. I've never seen them together." Derek ignored them, pressed closer to his parents, and let the concerns of the pack drift away.

***

                Laura did the opening ceremony the next year, their mother watching from the sidelines, but it was fine. Laura was a natural, taking to public speaking like a duck to water, it made her shine. Derek wished he felt that comfortable in his own skin, but standing alone in a crowd of people he barely knew, he felt acutely aware of how uncomfortable he was. He slipped from the group and his own skin. He shifted into the wolf, shaking out his fur and feeling free and happier in that moment. He searched for his mate's scent, trying not to let the disappoint crush him when he realised he wasn't there. Instead, Derek found his mate's mother again. "He's away again, I'm afraid. He's in New York," she said. It made Derek's skin crawl, thinking his mate was at another romance festival by himself. "He asked me to give you this," she added, holding out a plastic bag. Derek carefully took it from her, bowing his head, before he scampered away. He changed back, tossed the bag into his car, and drove home long before the festival ended.

                Derek pulled the red hoodie from the plastic bag when he was sitting on his bed. He held it in his hands for a moment, before carefully unfolding it and tugging it on. It was too small for him, but it was comforting. Derek found another letter tucked into one of the pockets. He unfolded it slowly, scared that there was something awful written inside. Instead, he found another apology, and promise to return soon. It wasn't signed, like the last one hadn't been, instead of ending with _"I'm not ready yet."_ which sat somewhere between comforting and mocking. Derek locked his bedroom door, curled up in his bed, with the hoodie still on, and slept through the rest of the festival.

***

                When Derek arrived at the festival he didn't let himself hope that his mate would be there, and when he arrived and he was right, he thought it must hurt less. Derek spent most of the day next to his mother, helping her with whatever came up. He kept away from the pack members who looked at him with judging eyes. Derek knew better, his mated wanted him, and he wanted his mate. He stopped his mother from chasing people down, and getting mad at them because he thought that seemed like confirmation of their thoughts.

                "You should go find his parents," Talia said, as the sun started to set.

                "I don't think I want to," Derek answered, fishing a few pop cans out of the garbage and moving them to the recycling.

                "What if they have another gift from him?" she asked. No one had ever addressed the gifts before, but it wasn't like Derek could hide the way he was wrapped in his mates scent after the last two runs.

                "I..."

                "Go on," Talia urged, "focus on the fact that he is leaving you gifts, and not just disappearing." Derek finally agreed, shifted, and set out to find his mate's parents. His mate's mother saw him as he approached and she seemed to perk up.

                "There you are! I was worried something had happened to you!" she called. Derek winced at her words, feeling guilty that he had made her worry. "Now, my son and I had a bit of an argument over what to leave you this year. He thought his boxers were completely acceptable, but I disagreed and we settled on his pillowcase which, is to say, I changed the gift after he left. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Just don't tell him later." She held another plastic bag out to Derek, and he carefully took it from her. He suddenly realised that he'd ever bothered to bring a gift for his mate, and felt stupid and selfish. His mate's father joined them a moment later, smiling at Derek in a way that was almost worrying.

                "He'll be back soon," he said, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders. Derek nodded his head before he disappeared back through the crowd and to his car. Inside the bag was a pillowcase, one that smelled so strongly of mate that it made Derek's head spin. The same smell of magic clung to the fabric as well, and Derek wondered if it was his mate or one of his mate's parents who was the magic user. He tucked one of his pillows inside the case when he got home, tossing it onto his bed, and staring at it. It was a strange green-blue colour that stood out awkwardly against his red-orange bedspread, but it seemed right. His mate was a sharp, vibrant contrast to Derek.

***

                Derek arrived late in the afternoon to the run the next year, but as soon as he opened the door he could smell him. His mate's scent clouded his mind, suddenly and completely. He was here, he was home again, and it made Derek want to shift beside his car, modesty be damned. He clutched at his car door, swaying back and forth for a minute before he closed the door and hurried into the festival. He ducked into the closet empty tent, stripped out of his clothing, shifted, and then raced into the forest. He followed a straight path, leading him toward their clearing, and then beyond to the second place they had settled. He found the picnic blanket set out, with only the scent of his mate clinging to the fabric. Derek realised suddenly, that his mate was running from him. His mate was asking to be _chased._ Derek wanted to howl, to let his mate know he was there, he was coming, but it would sound too much like a victory. So, Derek ran after him. He followed trails, found dead ends, chased false scents. He was at a disadvantage, he had come too late in the day, he should have had hours to search. His mate had, had hours to hide, but Derek would search into the night.

                He found spots where his mate had climbed trees, thrown himself from its branches and ran through streams. Derek chased him until it was pitch black in the forest, and there were worried howls coming to look for him. He didn't want that, he didn't want the pack to find him and drag him from his chase. He crashed through the stream, sending a panicked owl up into the sky away from him, then he was in a new clearing, and there was his mate. He stood in a pool of moonlight that broke through the trees, and it made Derek's heart stop. He was done growing now, his limbs fit his body, and he'd grown out his hair. He was dressed in tight black pants, a Star Wars t-shirt, and a red plaid over shirt. He was smiling at him, eyes glowing in the low light, like fire hidden inside of him. The smell of magic clung to his mate's skin, but Derek thought it made him smell even better. His mate grinned at him, and it sent a thrill of excitement through his body. Derek moved toward him, shifting as he went until he was a man standing in front of his mate.

                Derek saw his mate's breath catch as he looked at him, and Derek thought about ducking away and hiding from his gaze. Instead, he squared his shoulders and tilted his head to the side. "Hello, Wolf," his mate said. His voice was strong, warm, and welcoming.

                "Derek," he said. His mate smiled wider and moved toward him.

                "Stiles," he answered. The name slammed against Derek's ribs and settled on his heart like a missing piece. Derek reached for him, hand shaking as he did, he paused, inches from Stiles. "Scared?" Stiles whispered between them.

                "Terrified," Derek answered.

                "I've wanted to see you for ten years," Stiles told him.

                "I've wanted that too."

               "Then why are you hesitating?" Stiles asked, but he could tell Stiles knew the reason why. Derek raised an eyebrow, slowly and meaningfully. Stiles laughed, and then very softly he said, "I'm ready now." Derek surged forward, wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him close. Stiles pressed his lips to Derek's, wrapped his arms around his neck, and let Derek lift him off the ground. Their kiss was messy and unskilled. There was too much teeth, and neither of them could stop smiling long enough to actually really kiss each other. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, but they'd learn, and the idea of it thrilled Derek. Instead of worrying about the kiss, Derek threw his head back and howled his victory. He howled loud and long, as Stiles laughed in his arms, and Derek knew that he didn't care about anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically Peter ends up with Chris and Laura ends up with Jordan, but if you don't like the pairings than you can picture someone else. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~My friend told me she wants me to write another chapter explaining how their lives end up, but I don't know about that yet.~~
> 
>  
> 
> The first three comments made me sure I should keep writing this, all the comments after that just really nailed it into place. I already had a few plans for another chapter but wasn't totally sure at first. I'm working on the second (and maybe a third) chapter already.


	2. Chapter 2

                Stiles was 11-years-old when his mother got sick, but she didn't know it yet. He knew she was sick because he could hear it crawling around inside her brain. He told her one night, as she pecked him on the forehead. They were going to the romance festival the next day, and she had just finished telling him the story of how she met his father. The two had found each other in the field beyond the forest, his father had knocked a cup of water onto her lap, and she'd loved him ever since. Stiles knew the story, she'd told him it a million times before, and he liked her story. But, tonight, he couldn't focus on what she was telling him, listing to the sickness inside his mother's head. "Are you okay, Bug?" she asked. Stiles turned to look at her face, he realised he hadn't been looking at her face at all, only staring at the side of her head.

                "There's something in your brain," he said, and she tilted her head to the side.

                "In my brain?" she asked still smiling.

                "Yeah, something sick. It wants to eat away your life," Stiles said, as he rolled onto his side and tried to get comfortable. "A doctor will see it. Night mama, love you," he said, as he yawned and settled into his bed. The next day, his dad had to work, but he and his mother went to the romance festival. It was hard to be there, there was so much going on that Stiles wanted to vibrate out of his skin. He darted back and forth, staying within his mother's reach, but frantic to see everything. Then, suddenly, there was a dog... no, it wasn't a dog it was a wolf. Stiles couldn't stop himself from smiling and shouting, "Mum! Look a wolf!" and pointing toward the creature, like his mother wouldn't see it.

                "Oh, hello," she said softly, and then as she smiled, "shouldn't you be running?" The wolf looked from his mother to Stiles, and then back again. The wolf's eyes flashed when they settled on Stiles, and something inside of Stiles' chest stirred. His mother was suddenly silent, looking surprised and unsure how to respond, but Stiles knew what it meant when a wolf found you. So, as his mother and the wolf looked at each other, Stiles squared his shoulders.

                "I'm not ready yet," he said because he was too young right now and he knew that. He wasn't allowed to run until he was at least 16, his father had told him, but Stiles was confident he could talk his dad down a year or two. That thought didn't stop the disappointment he felt when he said it. The wolf came toward him, and then rubbed along his side. The feeling in his chest pulsed almost painfully against his ribs, but then it was warm and comforting. Stiles laughed at the feeling, reaching out and running his fingers through his mate's fur. Stiles watched the wolf retreat a few minutes later, feeling so full inside that it made his chest ache.

                His mother took him home that night, listening to Stiles babbling about the wolf. "He's really mine, huh, mama?"

                "He's really yours, bug," she said, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

                "Do you think he'll like me forever?"

                "I bet he'll love you forever," she said.

                "I'm gonna love him forever too," Stiles told her, and she smiled at him. Claudia forgot what Stiles had said about her being sick, but Stiles watched the thing growing inside her brain.

***

                Stiles was given his first dose of Adderall two days after he reminded his mother that she was sick. She had told the doctor about what he had said, and the doctor had rolled his eyes and scribbled out a prescription for Stiles. "It'll help him focus, maybe quiet some of those crazy thoughts," the man said. Stiles didn't like the pills, but his mother promised that it would help him concentrate, so Stiles took them. It was a week later at school when one of the werewolves in his class, wrinkled her nose at him and said.

                "You smell even worse than before."

                "What?" he asked shocked.

                "You smell sour, it's gross," she said. "You'd better hope your mate isn't a were, or they won't ever like you." Stiles held that fear in his chest because he already knew who his mate was.

                "Maybe... I'll stay home," Stiles told his mother the morning of the festival.

                "I thought you were excited to go back?" she asked.

                "How am I going to meet your wolf, if we don't go?" his dad asked him.

                "Well... I just think... maybe, it's best not to go," Stiles said. He didn't want to tell them, he was worried they would confirm what the girl had told him.

                "Stiles," his mother said softly, "come on, what's wrong?"

                "I smell bad," he said.

                "What?"

                "A girl in my class told me I smell bad, even worse since I got my medicine," he said.

                "Oh, bug, you don't smell bad," his mother said.

                "But you're not a wolf! What if my mate doesn't like me anymore? She said that a wolf wouldn't like me!" Stiles insisted. "I don't even like the medicine! It doesn't even help!"

                "Well... how about we go to the festival and if your mate thinks it smells gross, you can stop taking it," John said. Stiles stared at his father, silent for a long moment before he asked.

                "Really? You mean it?"

                "I mean it, if your mate thinks you smell gross, we'll stop the pills."

                "Okay!" Stiles agreed, he grabbed his coat and shoved his feet into his shoes. "Come on! Come on!" They found a place on the grass, Stiles' dad already wearing his uniform so he could go right to work afterwards. Stiles waited, sitting right next to his mother, mindlessly pulling handfuls of grass from the ground. He scanned the crowds, back and forth looking desperately for his wolf.

                "Why don't you go in the bouncy castle or play some of the games?" his mother asked.

                "Not until I see my wolf," Stiles said firmly. Fear tightened around Stiles' heart, as the morning disappeared and afternoon began. Stiles heard the announcement that it was time for the second set of runners, and Stiles tensed. What if his wolf wanted to see if there was someone better in the trees? Before the thought could take hold, his wolf appeared through the crowd. "Mum! He came back!" Stiles shouted, getting both of his parent's attention. The wolf seemed nervous, sitting down and just looking at them for a minute.

                "Hello again," Claudia said and then patted the space between Stiles and herself. Stiles watched, excitedly, as his wolf inched toward them. He kept glancing up at Stiles' dad like he was scared that he was going to start yelling at him. He finally sat in-between them, stretching out and laying his head on his front paws. Stiles grinned at his parents, so happy that he thought he might burst. Stiles talked to his wolf and his parents throughout the day, talking about superheroes and movies he loved. It was late at night after Stiles' dad had left for work that Stiles looked at his wolf and said. "I'm not ready yet." Because he was still too young, and he knew that. He watched as his mate's tail stopped its gentle thumping on the ground, so Stiles hurriedly added. "I'll be ready one day. Promise." His wolf got to his feet and rubbed against Stiles, making the warm feeling in his chest pulse again, this time even harder. Stiles pressed his hand to his chest, as he watched his mate disappear into the crowd.

***

                Stiles stood next to his mother in the hospital room, she was sitting on the examination table, staring at the specialist she had been sent to see. "It's really far along, soon... you'll start losing memories," she told her. "Medication can slow the progress, but..."

                "How long?" she asked, her voice tight but trembling.

                "Maybe six months," she said. There was a knock at the door, and the doctor went and opened it. Another doctor came into the room, a large man with dark hair and kind eyes. "This is Dr Hale, he'll be the doctor you start seeing regularly."

                "Hello," Claudia said softly.

                "I'm sorry we had to meet like this," he said, as he shook her hand. Then he looked at Stiles, who was staring at his mother. "Who's this?" he asked.

                "My son, Stiles," she answered.

                "Are you going to be coming to visit me with your mum a lot?" Dr Hale asked, and Stiles turned to look at him.

                "Yes," Stiles said firmly. It was two months later, at another appointment when Stiles couldn't take it anymore. His mother was crying, and he couldn't stand it. The sound dug into his chest and made his heartache. Dr Hale was standing near her bed, his hand on her shoulder, blank veins tracing up his arm as he tried to pull the pain away. Stiles waited until Dr Hale stepped away, moving to the side of the room to do something else. Then he crawled up onto is mother's bed and into her lap. "You're going to be fine," Stiles told her, and she forced a watery smile.

                "I hope so," she said.

                "No," he said firmly, "you're going to be fine." He reached out, his hands settling on either side of her head.

                "Oh bug, only werewolves can pull pain away," she mumbled. He knew that she thought his touch was for comfort, or that he was trying to copy Dr Hale, but he wasn't doing that. He closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. His mother gasped suddenly, as Stiles' eyes fluttered open again, this time shining like liquid gold. Stiles forced the warm feeling that lived in his chest out and through his hands; he buried it in his mother's brain and tore the sickness from her. The gold poured from his eyes, running down his cheeks like tears, as a black liquid starting leaking from his mother's eyes, mouth, and nose.

                "Stiles!" Dr Hale shouted, but Stiles didn't move. He just focused harder on the pain inside his mother. He kept pulling and tugging at the sickness until there was nothing left behind. Then, he tipped backwards and his whole body seized. Stiles woke up cuddled in bed with his father at his side.

                "Mum?" Stiles asked softly. "Mum?" he asked again as he realised she wasn't there.

                "Calm down," John said, but Stiles was panicking.

                "Did I kill her? Did I make it worse? Where is she?"

                "Calm down! Stiles, she's fine! They took her for some tests, but it looks like she's better," he said. Stiles froze, his father's hand tightening around his hands. "Stiles, what did you do?" John asked softly.

                "I took the sickness out," Stiles answered, eyes wide. "I could hear it, crawling around inside her brain, and I made it come out." Dr Hale came back with his mother and another woman an hour later. Stiles knew this woman; she was Alpha Hale, in charge of the territory they lived in. He sunk down lower into the bed, pressing closer to his father.

                "I'm completely healed," Claudia said.

                "Like it was never there at all," Dr Hale said.

                "How did Stiles...?" John said, but didn't really know what to ask. Alpha Hale carefully took one of the seats next to the bed and looked at Stiles.

                "Hello, Stiles," she said.

                "Hello, Alpha," he answered and she smiled.

                "Did you know that you have a spark in your chest?" she asked.

                "No," he answered softly and then suddenly remembered the warm feeling that had bloomed in his chest when his mate had come close to him. "I thought it was love," he blurted out.

                "Love?" she asked.

                "I got... I got a feeling, in my chest, when I met my mate. I thought it was love," he said.

                "You have a mate?" she asked, and then looked over at John.

                "He's met his mate, but I think the boy is a bit older than Stiles is, so he hasn't shifted back to human," John explained. Stiles watched as Alpha Hale suddenly looked shocked, then she turned and looked at Stiles differently. She smiled at him again, so wide that Stiles thought it might hurt her.

                "I'm very excited to meet you, Stiles. For a lot of reasons," she told him, and then she turned to his parents. "Stiles' mate is a member of my pack, and when they bond... when they bond Stiles will have the ability to draw power from the pack."

                "You make that sound like a bad thing," John said.

                "Well... it can be," she said. "But, if we make sure he gets the training he needs, he'll be amazing." Stiles met with the emissary of the Hale pack a week later and started learning how to control the powers the burned under his skin.

                "Mum's all better," Stiles told Scott, as they sat in the field at the romance festival a month after that. "She's doing tests today, but they think it's gone forever."

                "And you really pulled it out?" Scott asked.

                "It was so gross, Scott, it was coming out of her nose!"

                "Cool," Scott said and then he screamed. Stiles turned to look at the space Scott had been looking, and sitting there was his wolf.

                "That's my wolf!" he said.

                "He's huge!" Scott snapped and scooted back away from it.

                "He's getting pretty big," Stiles agreed because it was true. His mate was way bigger this year, and it made Stiles wonder how old he was. He looked much more like an adult wolf now, but then his tongue lulled out of his mouth and Stiles laughed. His mate sat with them, listening to them talk, his head resting on or near Stiles' lap. It was getting late when Scott's watch beeped, and Stiles knew they had to get back to Melissa.

                "Come on, Sti--" Scott started, but Stiles lunged at him and slapped his hand over his mouth.

                "No!" he shouted, and Scott looked startled. "I'm not ready yet." His mate huffed at him, but he didn't seem to mind, slowly he rubbed against Stiles' side, sending another jolt through his chest, and then he was heading off into the crowd of people.

                "Stiles, your eyes glowing," Scott said.

                "I think... my magic is his fault," Stiles said, but neither of them really knew how that could be possible.

***

                 Scott's mum decided to run the following year, so Stiles' parents went early with her, to support her. Scott and Stiles were left by the games and things and told not to get into trouble. "Do you think she'll find someone?" Scott asked.

                "Maybe, she deserves someone nice," Stiles answered.

                "Can't you use your magic to find out?"

                "Nope, Deaton says love spells are off limits until he isn't my teacher anymore, he thinks they are lower forms of magic," Stiles said.

                "That's weird," Scott said.

                "I think so too. But, I'm pretty sure the dude's just scared of women," Stiles answered, and Scott rolled his eyes at him.

                "Come on, let's go wait for your boyfriend," Scott said. Stiles rolled his eyes back at Scott, but followed him, until they found a clear place to sit. It wasn't long before the wolf appeared and came toward them. "Wolf!" Scott called and waved his arms over his head. His wolf dropped down into the dirt when he reached them and rolled onto his side.

                "Geez, I've got myself a lazy wolf," Stiles said, poking at his mate. The wolf huffed, pressed his nose against Stiles' leg and made a noise. Stiles just laughed at him, running his fingers through the fur until the wolf had dozed off.

                "It's pretty cool," Scott said. "Already having your mate, what's he like when he's human anyway?"

                "I dunno, I haven't seen him that way," Stiles said.

                "What? You've never even seen him?"

                "Nope, but Alpha Hale says he's a member of her pack, so I've probably seen him before," Stiles said.

                "What's his name?"

                "I don't know that either," Stiles said and shrugged his shoulders.

                "Really?"

                "He's never shifted back, so I can't ask him..."

                "Why not ask Alpha Hale?"

                "Because! He hasn't shifted back yet! He might not want me to know," Stiles explained. "Plus, Deaton said that my magic is really strong, and bonding will make it stronger. He said he's never met anyone who had so much power all by themselves... He said I'm never allowed to do magic without him because I might hurt myself or someone else. I don't want to do that; I'm scared if I see him the bond will just happen. What if I explode with power? What if I make him explode?"

                "Okay..." Scott said slowly. Stiles shifted on the grass and settled with his back against his mate's side. "I don't think you'll explode."

                "I don't really think I will either, but I don't wanna risk it," Stiles said. Scott nodded his agreement and the zipped up his jacket.

                "Why is it so cold?" he asked.

                "It's winter," Stiles said, and then jerked his thumb to the spot next to him. "Wolf's warm and comfortable."

                "Is that weird?"

                "Leaning on a wolf?"

                "No, like, isn't it like cuddling with my best friend and his boyfriend?"

                "I'm pretty sure it's not, but I could throw an arm over your shoulder if you're looking for some close and personal action," Stiles said and wiggled his eyebrows.

                "Ugh, no," Scott said, but he twisted around and leaned back against the side of the wolf. "Okay, he's really warm."

                "Told you so," Stiles said. They both pulled out their Game Boys and continued to race each other through Pokemon. The wolf woke up a few hours later, shaking a little and blinking at the two of them.

                "Sorry dude, is this weird?" Scott asked, "you're just really warm." Stiles waited for a second, and when the wolf didn't move, he decided that meant he didn't care. They closed their Game Boys and slipped them back into their pockets, Stiles stretching his arms up over his head, before falling back against the wolf. No one did anything for a few minutes, just sitting in quiet company, but then the wolf nudged his nose against Stiles' hand, sending a painful burst of warmth through him. Stiles whole body flinched to the side, the pain bouncing off his bones like an echo. His mate tensed when it happened, and Stiles did his best to look embarrassed.

                "I'm not ready yet," he said very softly, and this time it meant something else. It wasn't because he was too young anymore; it was because something dangerous bloomed in his chest when they had more intimate moments of contact. The wolf just nodded its head, so Stiles carefully wrapped his arms around his neck, and mumbled, "thank you." His mate left when a howl echoed through the forest, it was louder than most, and when Stiles' mate got up he assumed it was a family member.

                Scott and Stiles found their parents near the edge of the forest, Melissa standing just a little too close to Deaton. "Well," Stiles said slowly, and then turned to look at Scott, "Have fun with that." Then he grabbed his mum's hand and dragged her back to the car.

***

                "I'm going to run this year," Stiles told his parents, early in the morning before the festival started.

                "No," his father said, glancing from the coffee maker to Stiles and then back.

                "You know you can't do that," his mother said, and Stiles frowned at them.

                "I'm not going to bond with him, I... I just wanna be part of the run," he said. "Plus, isn't it like a big deal for the wolves? Wouldn't it be a nice thing to do for him?" Claudia looked over at John and raised her eyebrows at him.

                "I don't know if it's a good idea," John said. "Wolves can get a little--"

                "Mine doesn't," Stiles said firmly, and really neither of his parents could argue that.

                "It probably wouldn't hurt," Claudia said and smiled a little at John.

                "Come on, we agreed, when he was 16," John answered.

                "That was before I had a mate," Stiles said.

                "He's right," Claudia agreed.

                "What about other people running, what if someone else takes an interest in our 15-year-old son?"

                "I smell weird, remember?"

                "Stiles," John said, but Stiles just shrugged. He didn't take the medicine anymore, finding that doing and practising magic calmed his mind better than anything else ever had, but he knew he still smelt a little off. "Go to your room, your mum and I will talk." Stiles saluted his parents and disappeared to his bedroom until John showed up later in the day.

                "Well?" Stiles asked.

                "What's your plan for this?" he asked.

                "My plan?"

                "You have a plan for everything, even how to get your socks on. What's the plan?"

                "I'm going to go into the forest, find a clearing, and then hang out until my wolf finds me," Stiles said. "I don't wanna run because that makes it the chase, and that's like consenting to the bonding. I... I just wanna hang out in the forest with him."

                "It's a bit weird, but okay," John said. "As long as it's just that."

                "I promise," Stiles said.

                "Okay."

                They didn't arrive too early in the day because Stiles wasn't planning on hiding from his mate. He'd heard other people talking about how peaceful it was out in the forest together, how it could put a wolf at ease, Stiles wanted to give his mate that. So, he walked into the trees and settled in the first clearing he could find. The ground was a little wet, and he wished he had brought a blanket to sit on, but he'd live. His mate arrived suddenly, crashing through the trees and into the clearing. Stiles tensed when he appeared and scrambled to his feet, but once he was standing, he smiled at him. Stiles lifted his hand up slowly, trying to move smoothly and calmly. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm... I'm not ready yet." His mate moved toward him, circled him and then rubbed along his side. Stiles caught the wave of warmth that rushed through him this time, easing the pain that normally came with it. "Not mad then?" he asked. His wolf huffed and shook his head.

                Sitting in the forest with his mate was more relaxing than Stiles expected it to be. He stretched out on the grass, ignoring the way it soaked up the water from the ground. His wolf rested its head on his lap, and Stiles ran his fingers through his fur. It might not have been what his mate was hoping for, but Stiles thought this was still worth it. The peace and quiet and being alone together was perfect.

***

                Stiles woke up screaming, his heart slamming against his ribs, and his head spinning. Everything felt wrong, out of focus and hard to reach. His bedroom door slammed open and his mother screamed too. "Stiles! What are you doing?" she shouted.

                "Having nightmares!" he answered a little frantic.

                "You're floating!" she said, and Stiles suddenly realised he was. He was about five feet off his bed, closer to the ceiling than the floor, and just hovering in the air. He reached out slowly, letting his fingers run across the rough-chalky popcorn ceiling. Then, just like that, he wasn't floating anymore. He hit his bed, the wood cracking under the sudden impact of his weight. His mother was on his bed a second later, pulling him to her chest, and hugging him. "Oh my god."

                "It's okay, mum. There are no clowns or anything, just a little freestyle floating."

                "I'm not in the mood for pop culture sass right now," she said. "Where did that even come from?"

                "I learnt it by watching you," Stiles said and she groaned.

                "I meant the floating, Mieczyslaw," she said.

                "Geez, is this really real name serious?" Stiles mumbled.

                "You were just floating eight feet off the ground," she said. "Maybe we should call Alpha Hale?"

                "Mum, it's three in the morning," Stiles said.

                "You were just floating eight feet off the ground!"

                "This room has got to be only eight feet, I was at most seven feet off the ground, and only five off my bed?" he offered.

                "That doesn't make it better!"

                "Is dad home yet?" he asked, and his mother sighed.

                "No, not for a few more hours."

                "Want to make pancakes and bacon before he gets home?"

                "...yes," she answered, and pulled him from his bed and after her. They still called Alpha Hale, but Stiles managed to make his mother wait until it was later in the morning. "Yes, floating... I don't know, I've never--no, I'm not sure. But... well of course, yes... He's seeing him tomorrow... Oh, you will? Thank you so much, Alpha Hale... Yes, yes. Thank you. I'll see you next week."

                "Nothing to worry about?" Stiles asked.

                "She'll talk to Deaton about it today, and then tomorrow during your lesson he will talk to you about it," she said, but the next day it wasn't Deaton who asked him. Instead, it was a tall thin woman, with sharp eyes, and same tone of voice as Deaton.

                "What are your nightmares about, Stiles?"

                "Are you two related?" he asked.

                "Siblings," she told him.

                "That makes sense, you can see it in the dead behind the eyes," he told her, drawing a twirling pattern on a piece of paper.

                "Why are you avoiding this?" she asked.

                "I don't know what the problem is," Stiles said.

                "The problem is that you're seeing something so terrible, that your abilities are manifesting without your consent," she said. "You are _letting_ yourself be a danger to yourself and other."

                "I didn't know there were magical therapists," Stiles said.

                "There are magic users in most jobs," she answered and then asked. "What are you drawing?"

                "I dunno, just a shape," he said. She leaned a little closer and hummed when she saw it.

                "Do you see that in your dreams, Stiles?"

                "Sometimes."

                "That symbol is called a triskelion, it's the symbol of the Hale pack," she said and then she was quiet. Stiles didn't know if she was waiting for him to be impressed or to tell her something else. Instead, she let Stiles draw the pattern over and over until his pen suddenly tore through his paper, and he stopped. Stiles stared at the lines on the paper, tracing them with his eyes as his head spun slightly.  

                "Sometimes it's huge, looming in front of me... and then it unwinds--it unwinds and it wraps around my neck, hoists me into the air, and strangles me," he said slowly. She seemed to consider his words for a few minutes, and then carefully she asked.

                "Are you scared of becoming part of the pack, Stiles?"

                "It's a lot, isn't it? I mean... Are you part of a pack, Ms Morrell?"

                "Yes."

                "What's it like?"

                "Comforting," she said.

                "Always?"

                "No, sometimes it's hectic, and you have responsibilities to your pack. It's like becoming part of a huge family, even more so with the Hales. They have a huge pack, with connections and ties to packs all over the world. They are a daunting pack to step into." Stiles traced his finger along the black lines, the last bits of wet ink smudging as he did.

                "Sometimes it's carved out of me like I'm a Thanksgiving bird... Sometimes I'm devoured by gnashing teeth but... but," Stiles choked on the words, taking a shaking breath, and screwing his eyes shut. He could feel tears burning his cheeks, his chest ache, and his head pound. "But, most of the time, I'm the one carving, the one gnashing. I'm taking and taking, and there is this silver light, that I devour like a man starved. I take it like it's the only thing keeping me alive, and slowly it disappears, and then... so do I."

                Stiles climbed into his mother's car after his lesson, feeling tired and more confused than he had before it started. "I got you something," his mother said, pushing a plastic bag into his hands. Stiles raised an eyebrow at her, and then pulled out a bright red hoodie.

                "Oh man, this is so bright. I didn't even know they made a red this bright," he said.

                "I thought it looked like something you should have," she said.

                "Does this have anything to do with me planning to have a picnic in the forest this year?" he asked. "Because, I have to remind you, I'm going _for_ the big bad wolf." His mother laughed as she pulled the car away.

                "I just want you to be visible, and I didn't think you want the neon yellow one," she said.

                "This will do it," he said.

                "Do you like it?" she asked.

                "I love it," he answered, and struggled in his seat until he got it on. "It's my Red Riding Hoodie."

                "I'm sure your big bad wolf will love it."

                Stiles wasn't really sure if his wolf loved it, but he didn't seem to mind it when he came into the clearing in the forest. "I'm not ready yet," Stiles told him, as his mate waited a few feet away from him. The wolf bounced his head and then trudged across the clearing. Stiles pulled food from his bag and offered a sandwich to the wolf. "Like my hoodie?" he asked, tugging at one of the sleeves, and then he paused. "Is Little Red Riding Hood offensive? What? It's a valid question!" The wolf huffed and continued eating. It was easy, talking to the wolf, Stiles thought partly because it almost didn't feel like he was talking to a human at all. But, when Stiles reminded himself that he was talking with a person, it didn't feel any worse.

                "Scott's running this year, well... kind of. He's got asthma, so he's really meandering this year. His mum hoped he'd outgrow it, but it seems like it's getting worse you know? Well, he has a girlfriend now, she's running too this year. They're cute; I dunno how it's going to go. I'm not even really sure why they both decided to run anyway, something about the experience probably. I hope neither of them gets picked, let them have a little of that teen romance." The wolf shifted suddenly next to him, startling Stiles, and then he whined low in the back of his throat. His whole body vibrated with the sound of it, and after a second Stiles thought he understood what the problem was.

                "Oh, no, dude. I don't need that stuff, I've never wanted that, you know? I've had a mate since I was 11; I've had the option of romance for ages, but... I dunno. There's just..." Stiles paused and looked down at his mate. He needed to tell him, it was only fair, wasn't it? Stiles wanted to be embarrassed by the fact, that one of the first spells he had mastered was hiding the smell of magic on his skin, but he couldn't. He was scared of what his mate would think of it, even if he hadn't reacted badly when Stiles smelt of medication. Sometimes the smell of magic was overpowering and cloying even to humans, it must have been suffocating for a wolf. The wolf was looking up at him, with kind hazel eyes, and Stiles' resolve crumbled. There was hope buried behind his eyes, and suddenly Stiles felt guilty and selfish. "I'm sorry. You're being so patient with me, maybe I should just--"

                His wolf growled again, ducking his head as he went. "Doesn't seem fair to you," Stiles said. His heart was pounding in his chest, trapped somewhere between panicked and thrilled. His mate was more patient than anyone Stiles had ever met. He watched his wolf roll onto his side, tilt his head back and bare his belly. It made Stiles' stomach flip almost uncomfortably, but then he smiled. "How are you this nice?" The wolf nuzzled closer to him, sending pulsed of warmth through Stiles. He caught them again, tucking them carefully inside his chest, and smiling at the wolf.

                He realised, as he drove back home that evening, that the silver light in his dreams, was his wolf. It set something in his chest, and in his mind. If Stiles didn't learn to control what he had, he would take everything from his wolf, until there was nothing left of either of them. Stiles tightened his hands on his steering wheel, he wouldn't do that to them.

***

                Stiles spent most days after school sitting in Deaton's living room, old books and scrolls spread around him. Today was no different, review the basics of magic and magical control. Stiles only made it 30 minutes before he suddenly said, "I want to become an emissary." Deaton stopped and slowly turned to look at him.

                "You can't," he said.

                "Why not?" Stiles snapped.

                "Because you're too powerful," Deaton answered.

                "What? That seemed like the dumbest reas--"

                "Emissaries are strong, but they have limits, as far as I've seen... you have no limits," Deaton said.

                "And why does that--?"

                "I don't know if you'll ever be able to control your magic, Stiles," Deaton said. "There is too much power inside of you."

                "So I might explode?"

                "You might," Deaton said.

                "How do I learn to control it?"

                "Train with masters," Deaton said. "Which I am not." Stiles was quiet for a long few minutes, waiting for more information, but when Deaton didn't say anything else, Stiles sighed.

                "I've already contacted Alpha Lama and her Emissary; they said they'd be willing to consider training. If you provided more information about me," Stiles said. Deaton stared at him for a minute, clearly thinking about it and then he nodded.

                "I will send her the requested information," Deaton said. "You are aware of her location, I assume?"

                "Miami isn't too far."

                "Is there a reason for Miami?" Deaton asked.

                "Emissary Gabriele is world renowned for helping supernatural creatures with control," Stiles said, but Deaton knew that.

                "He is a smart choice for a teacher," Deaton said. "Have you talked to your parents about this?"

                "Not yet... I was kind of hoping... that you might bring it up. Better chance of them agreeing," Stiles said.

                "In this case, I agree with you," Deaton said. "I will speak to them about it if Alpha Lama agrees."

                "Thank you," Stiles said earnestly.

                "You can thank me later, now, let's review creation and production of fire," Deaton said, and tapped his finger against the book in front of him.

                Stiles made six sandwiches the morning of the festival and tossed a blanket into the back of his dad's car. When they arrived, he stopped at one of the catering tables and shoved a few other things into his bag before heading into the forest. He spread out the blanket and pulled out the food. His wolf arrived early in the afternoon, and Stiles grinned widely at him. The wolf tugged at the corner of his hoodie, before settling on the blanket. "I brought food, Big Bad. And a blanket to keep the water off my ass," he said, waving a sandwich at Derek. "I made some and stole some stuff from the catering tables." The wolf pressed his nose to Stiles' side, and it made him smile a little. The warmth bloomed in his chest, becoming less and less painful each year and more welcome. Stiles offered the wolf a few of the sandwiches, unwrapping them and leaving them on the blanket.

                Stiles found himself rambling at his mate, telling him about how he hoped to go visit Miami and his worries about finishing school. Soon, he didn't have anything else to say and settled leaning back against the wolf. They dozed next to each other, sometimes with Stiles leaning against the wolf, or the wolf resting his head on Stiles. If the wind had been a little louder that day, it might have been more peaceful, but the sounds of sex grew around them as the day went on. Stiles groaned and rolled onto his side. "If I can hear the sex, it must be awful for you," he said, and then shouted, "Get a room you animals!"

                "Mind your own business!" someone else yelled back at him.

                "You're fucking our mother!" Stiles shouted and then froze. What was he even saying? That made no sense... except it did. Couldn't they feel it under their bodies when they pressed themselves against the ground? The soft-warm pulsing of life from the ground below them. The way the trees and the plants grew and moved around them. "Fucking on the ground is essentially making Mother Earth part of your sex life! Our mother doesn't want this!"

                "Shut the fuck up!" the person yelled back. Stiles started laughing; because of course, they couldn't feel it. Deaton started Stiles' lessons as a Druid, teaching him to connect and join with the world around him. These people were humans, or wolves, or whatever they were, they weren't like him.

                "What the hell is wrong with me? I'm sorry, if you make me your mate, you're getting a mate with a broken brain," he said and rolled onto his back. The wolf shifted forward, and suddenly there was a nose against Stiles' cheek and he smiled. Then, very suddenly, there was a wet tongue against his cheek. Stiles felt his heart stop, and the warmth that spread through him normally was a mind-numbing pain. "I'm not ready yet," Stiles whispered, pushing the words out past the pain. He felt his mate nod beside him, and Stiles suddenly wanted to cry, because he didn't think it was possible to love someone that he'd never seen, so much.

***

                It was six months later when Scott and Stiles were attacked by a rogue alpha. The creature launched at them, sending Stiles crashing into the street, and then he was on top of Scott. Stiles pushed himself up, part of his brain telling him this wasn't really happening. It was a wolf they knew. It was a friend and a bad joke, but then Scott was screaming. The world seemed to melt away, as Stiles threw his hands out in front of himself. He lifted the creature up and off of Scott; he threw him at the side of a building. Stiles looked at Scott, moved toward him, but then he saw the blood and he screamed. His voice cracked and broke, it echoed off the walls, and then there was nothing. Stiles woke up in a hospital bed, with his parents at his side. "Where's Scott?" Stiles asked.

                "He's fine, he's with Alpha Hale right now," John said. "She thinks Scott will make a wonderful addition to her pack."

                "That was an alpha? Did Alpha Hale catch him? Was she able to... why are you looking at me like that?"

                "What do you remember, Stiles?" Claudia asked softly.

                "The wolf was on top of Scott... I threw it off of him, at a wall nearby," Stiles said. His parents looked at each other; he could see them trying to figure out what to say to him. What to tell him about what had happened. "I killed him, didn't I?" Stiles asked sharply.

                "Stiles--"

                "No, mum, tell me. I need to know, I'll make something else up if you don't tell me, and it will probably be worse," Stiles said. They still hesitated but then his mother moved closer to him.

                "He... he isn't dead," Claudia said slowly.

                "Cool, score one for me," Stiles said.

                "But, he isn't a wolf anymore."

                "What? How is that even possible?"

                "Alpha Hale found you and Scott, both of you were unconscious but fine. The man was screaming while clutching a dead wolf. You... you tore the wolf out of him."

                "That's not possible," Stiles said, his voice rough.

                "It's not," she agreed, Stiles looked down at his hands and tried not to let himself cry. Two days later Stiles' mother spent an hour on the phone with Emissary Gabriele.

                "Are you sure, Stiles?" Claudia asked. "Miami is..."

                "I'm positive, if I can't get this under control, I'm never going to be able to live. I'm going to hurt more people," Stiles said.

                "You wouldn't hurt anyone," she said.

                "I already have, and I don't even remember doing it," Stiles said. "But, apparently I have the power to warp reality, and a short fuse."

                "It's... I just don't want you gone. What... what if you don't come back?" she asked. "What if they decide you're too dangerous and keep you locked up somewhere? I can't protect you if you are on the other side of the--"

                "Mum! Mum calm down," he said, reaching out for her. She pulled him into a hug, wrapping Stiles in her arms, and holding him tightly. "They wouldn't be able to lock me up, even if they wanted too. I'm totally confident of that."

                "I'll miss you so much," she whispered.

                "I'll call a bunch," he said. "Plus we still have five months until I go. That's almost half a year."

                It went by faster than Stiles thought was possible and suddenly he was handing his mother a gift for his wolf. Then, he was in Miami and Alpha Lama was picking him up from the airport. "It's very exciting to have you here," she said.

                "I really appreciate it, Alpha," he said.

                "You'll be staying with Gabriele and his husband, it will be easier with training if you are close to him," she said. “Deaton said you’ve been having nightmares.”

                “A little yeah,” he admitted.

                “Alim—Gabriele’s husband—is a therapist. So, if you feel you need it, he’s there as well,” she said. Stiles smiled at her and nodded his head. He still had Ms Morrell’s phone number in his phone, sometimes, when things were too much, he’d text her.

                Gabriele, Stiles thought, as a whirlwind of a man. He was huge, easily 6'6" and built like a brick shithouse. He looked and moved like a wolf, attractive with dark eyes and sharp edges. Stiles could see the magic dancing under his skin, and it made him wonder if others could see his magic. "Stiles, it's wonderful to meet you," he said.

                "Likewise," Stiles said and held his hand toward him. Stiles knew that Gabriele was going to measure and check his power when they made physical contact, and Stiles wondered if he could do the same. Gabriele's hand closed around Stiles' for only a second, before he yanked his hand back like he had been burned. "I have that effect on people," Stiles said.

                "It's... disconcerting," he answered honestly, "but not unmanageable." Stiles learnt that Gabriele had travelled the world when he was younger, learning how other packs control themselves. He gathered the information, taking different parts of it, and created his own technique. It worked better for shifters who struggled with control, but after a little adjusting and talking with Stiles, they settled into a routine of training and meditation. Stiles found the training--which included studying and actual use of magic--to be easy enough. Power slipped from his fingertips, like water rolling off glass. It poured from him like he was breathing, and he loved the thrill it sent through him when he used it.

                The mediation part of his training was harder, Gabriele wanted him to focus on the spark in his chest. He wanted him to connect with it, and communicate with it. It was almost alarming to learn that the power inside of him was like a separate being, like a wolf inside a shifter. Stiles quickly learnt that his spark was stubborn and hotheaded, it was greedy and wanted constant attention. “You should have started training much sooner,” Gabriele told him. “Deaton is a good teacher, but his powers are deeply rooted in the earth. He isn’t a spark, and as such, isn’t the best choice of teacher for you.”

                The romance festival came quickly, and Gabriele recommended that Stiles remain in Miami. “I know you’d like to see your mate, but we have put a lot of pressure on your spark, I don’t think it’s safe to go home. Without someone around who could contain you if something happened…”

                “I understand,” Stiles said. He turned down the invitations to the festival in Miami, spending the day with his head in books. When he went to sleep that night, he dreamt of warm pools of sunlight and sandwiches.

***

                Stiles did return home for a few weeks, spending time with his parents and friends, before he was gone again. Stiles went to New York to stay with the McKay pack, where he met with Gabriele and another master emissary. She was an old woman, visiting from Africa. Thoko was kind and strict, and even though she didn’t seem to understand all his jokes, she still laughed. She wasn’t a Spark either, she was something closer to a Conjuror, who was an expert at summoning creatures made of light and sheer force of will. “You need to learn not to rely on all your sense,” she told him. “Disabling spells are common and hard to deal with.” Stiles was put in the middle of a room; Gabriele, Thoko, and the McKay pack's emissary Mael were around the edges.

                "And here I always thought blindfolds were sexy," Stiles said, as he turned around. The fabric was wrapped around his head, making him focus on his other senses to find where the emissaries were in the room. Stiles was good at this exercise, he could feel the directions the magic came from. Stiles sidestepped another wave of energy.

                "Not everything is a sex thing, Stiles," Peter Hale said from where he was sitting across the room. He had lived with the McKay pack for years but moved back home after finding his mate there. He had decided to visit his old friends, but so far seemed to be there just to tease Stiles.

                "Oh my god, something is wrong with Peter, he's been replaced by a changeling!" Stiles said as he caught a ball of fire Thoko had lobbed at him. He spun around and tossed the ball at Peter, who yelped and jumped out of the way.

                "Leave the pup alone, Stiles," Thoko said, and Stiles could _feel_ Peter bristle at that.

                 "I came here, to see my old friends and family members, and I'm being insulted! I am a guest in your home--"

                "You are an intruder, Peter," Mael said, and Stiles snorted out a laugh. Peter's words were light, and Stiles knew the man was joking.

                "Fair enough," Peter answered. Stiles laughed again, twirling away from a bolt of energy. When training finished for the day, Mael grinned at Stiles and patted him on the shoulder.

"If only you were so good at meditation," he said.

                "Sitting still is hard," Stiles said, shrugging.

                "We'll work on anchoring you again, it seems to have slipped your mind," Gabriele said.

                “I’ve heard you have a mate, wouldn’t anchoring be easier, if were bonded to them?” Mael asked.

                “Too much power,” Thoko said, as she shuffled past the group.

                “Oh, you are a collector then,” Mael said.

                “What?”

                “A collector, you draw in energy if given the opportunity,” Mael said.

                “I didn’t know that,” Stiles said and thought of the silver light and his mate. Stiles must have made a face because the men shifted and then Gabriele said.

"Are you joining the pack at the festival of roses this year?"

                "I already have a mate back home, seems weird to go," Stiles said.

                "You can just spend time with friends," Mael said. “You don’t need to run.”

                “I’ll think about it,” Stiles said, and in the end, he did attend. Gabriele and Alim planned to run again that year, both human, and excited to renew their vows. Peter left the day before the run, going home to his mate and pack. He had hesitated before he left like he wanted to talk to Stiles, but he never did. It left Stiles with a strange feeling in his chest.

                 The morning of the festival Stiles found a spot on the grass a few meters from the rest of the people. A girl a little younger than him sat down on the ground next to him and smiled. “Running?” she asked.

                “No, you?” he asked her.

                “I had planned on it,” she said.

                “It’s a lot of fun,” Stiles told her.

                “You’ve done it before?”

                “A couple times. My mate and I tend to just chill in the woods, it’s nice,” Stiles said.

                “Oh, you’re mated?”

                “Well, no… not yet,” he said. “But, I know him.”

                “That seems unusual, not mating right away.”

                “It is, but we have our reasons.”

                “Is there something wrong with your mate?” she asked, and Stiles startled.

                “Excuse me?” he asked sharply.

                “Well, sometimes, you can feel that something is off and you might put it off,” she said, casually like her question wasn’t horribly rude.

                “No, there is nothing wrong with my mate,” he snapped, and she just hummed at him.

                “Maybe,” she answered.

                “Well, nice to meet you,” Stiles snapped and pushed up off the ground. He started back toward the pack, but only made it a few steps, before the girl’s hand closed tightly around his arm.

                “Stiles, wait,” she said, but he yanked free of her grip.

                “How do you know my name?” he asked.

                “You’re well known,” she said. “I wanted to ask you to join my pack.”

                “What?”

                “You’re becoming an emissary, and you’re very powerful. Any pack would be lucky to have you,” she said. “My pack is large and powerful, we would be able to provide many things for you.”

                “He has a pack,” Thoko said sharply from behind him.

                “Emissary,” she said softly, as a greeting.  

“Are you the Alpha?” she asked, even though Stiles could tell she knew the girl wasn't.

                “No, my uncle,” she answered.

                “Did he send you to see if Stiles would mate with you?”

                “I’ve been told my scent is appealing," she said, and Stiles could tell from the way the girl curled in on herself that she hadn't really wanted to do this.

                "Tell your Alpha that according to tradition it is his responsibility to convince the emissary to join their pack," Thoko said sternly, and the girl nodded. She turned on her heels and disappeared into the crowds of people.

                "I thought recruitment normally happened, once an emissary finished their training," Stiles said slowly. Stiles had learnt about emissary recruitment from Deaton before he'd even left Beacon Hills. Normally, packs looking for a new emissary would offer gifts to the person they felt would benefit their pack. It was their job to make their pack look as appealing as possible because, in the end, it was the emissary's choice. Forcing a person to become a pack emissary sometimes happened, but a forced connection was weak and easily breakable. It was also illegal, and when the pack was caught, the connection was broken and the pack was dissolved. It was easier and safer, to just try and win over an emissary. Before any of that could even happen an emissary in training, needed to officially apprentice with three packs. It was to test their willingness to follow orders, their ability to respond to threats and think on their feet. They needed to prove they deserved their position.

                "I have a feeling, that news of your strength will have packs coming around much sooner," Thoko said. "Trying to get a jump on the competition. Come back to the pack house with me, Stiles. It will be safest there."

***

                Stiles went back to Beacon Hills for the month of December, spending Christmas and New Years with his parents. "Does he seem to like the gifts?" Stiles asked, glancing back at his mother as he dug through his clothing.

                "I don't really know," she said. "He just takes them and hurries away. Poor boy seems so shy."

                "I need to leave him something better than my hoodie this year," he said and froze on the spot. "Okay... so I'm going to give you a piece of clothing to leave for him, and there's no need to look in the bag, okay?"

                "Stiles," she said sternly.

                "I just figure... I mean, my scent is strongest--"

                "I'm not giving him your underwear!" she snapped.

                "Mum! Come on!"

                "Stiles! I'm your mother!"

                "I can't ask Scott to do it! He'll werewolf up the smell! And I don't trust anyone else to handle my unmentionables!" he argued.

                "They are unmentionables for a reason, Mieczyslaw!" she snapped and Stiles groaned.

                "Look, I'll just put them in this bag, and you can just hand it to him okay? No need to worry or even think about it," Stiles said. Claudia got a look on her face that Stiles really didn't know the meaning of, but nodded her head at him.

                "Fine, be a weird pervert," she said, but there was no heat to her words.

                "You raised me," Stiles said and shrugged.

                "I've never given your father my underwear," she said.

                "Gross, no, don't talk about that," Stiles said.

                "You're telling me about it!" she said.

                "But, I'm a baby! I am your child!"

                "Exactly! Why would I want to hear about your sex things?" she asked.

                "It's not a sex thing mom!" Stiles shouted, a little panicked but she just rolled her eyes and left his room.

                He was on a plane two days later, tapping his fingers on the window, and bouncing his knee. It was halfway through the flight when the person he was sitting next to, got up and moved. Stiles didn't think much of it until a well-dressed man took his place. "I think that's someone else's seat," Stiles said.

                "I switched with him," he answered. Stiles stared at the man's face for a second and then cocked his head to the side.

                "Eyes," Stiles said, his voice soft but demanding. The man flashed his eyes, burning red of an alpha. "I've not finished my training."

                "I'm aware," the man answered. "I'm Alpha Lebelle."

                "Good to meet you, but again, I'm not in a position to accept offers to join packs. Besides, I'm fairly confident that I'll be joining the Hale pack once I'm finished."

                "They have an emissary, who isn't that old. There is no reason for you to join their pack; they wouldn't be able to utilize your skills."

                "My mate is a member of their pack," Stiles said and that seemed to surprise the Alpha.

                "You aren't bonded," he said.

                "I know," Stiles answered. He had a feeling that those words would haunt his dreams in later years. "For reasons that are private, my mate and I have not yet bonded. We will do so when we are ready."

                "Your mate would be welcome in our pack," Lebelle said.

                "My mate has a pack," Stiles said. "And until I'm finished my training _and_ am bonded, I won't be making any choices that will affect me and my mate's futures. I have a lot--" Lebelle pushed closer into Stiles' space, cutting him off.

                "If you would let me explain my offer to you, you might feel differently," Lebelle said. "I am able to offer you--"

                "No," Stiles interrupted. "I will not let you offer anything, and because of your inability to accept no for an answer, I'm formally rejecting your offer. As well as any future offers your pack makes. I'm sorry you switched seats because the rest of this flight we will be in silence. I have been awake for a very long time; this is the fourth plane I've been on in two days. If you try to talk to me, I'll teleport you off this aeroplane. I'm not 100% on werewolf healing speeds and abilities, but I bet a fall from 40,000 feet is not survivable _Alpha_." Lebelle sunk back into the seat, his eyes snapping to the back of the seat in front of him. The man didn't speak to Stiles again, even when they landed in Kenya all he did was force his way off the plane.

                Thoko and her alpha picked Stiles up, taking him back to their pack house, where he spent the next three months training. He didn't attend their romance festival either, but Thoko seemed to think that was the best course of action. Stiles spent the day of the festival in his room, drawing pictures of wolves and spirals. Soon enough they were at the airport again, Thoko hugged Stiles tightly before he headed through security. "My pack will be making a formal offer for you when you're training is finished," she said.

                "What would you be getting up to, if I took your place?" he asked. She laughed a little and smiled at him.

                "I'm very old, Stiles. Soon they will need someone new," she said.

                "You're going to live forever," Stiles told her. "Or, you at least have to outlive me, okay?"

                "I will do my best," she said. "Come back to visit once you've settled properly, I'd love to meet your mate."

               "Promise," he said. He hugged a few of the pack members who had come along and then was gone into the airport. The rest of his year went by in a blur, going from country to country faster than he thought was reasonable. He spent two months training in Jerusalem, learning control over his body and the power inside him. He learnt how to keep his spark in check, and how to make sure that nothing would make him lose control. He spent a month in Ioannina, Greece with a small pack that lived a quiet happy life. Their emissary taught him out to remove his scent and the sounds he made when he moved. He spent July in Sylhet, Bangladesh pulled the heat from the sun and channelling it through his limbs. He learnt bits of love spells from a young witch, in their pack who grinned wickedly when he asked for her help. He spent August and September bouncing through Europe with a pack made up of only an emissary and their alpha mate, learning and exploring with reckless abandon. Studying plant life, and how and when to use it in spells and magic. He spent the month after in Biei, Japan with a small part of a huge sprawling pack. Their emissary showed him how to read the future and a new series of meditations.

                He spent November in Niagara-on-the-Lake in Canada, where he learnt how to conjure and bend the elements. He spent days driving out to Niagara Falls, pulling huge streams of water out of the falls, making shapes of animals for the children in the pack, until the police told him to stop it. He returned to America on the first of December, where Mael picked him up at the airport and took him to the pack house in New York. While he was there, the McKay pack checked his control. They'd stalk him like prey, hiding in corners or rooms to jump out at him, to see if they could scare a reaction out of him. By the end of the month, Mael was confident that Stiles had his power under control. He returned to Beacon Hills on the 20th of December, feeling tired and desperate for his own bed. His stay in Beacon Hills was short, and soon enough it was the 2nd of January and his parents were seeing him off again.

                He went back to Miami for his final review, to prove to a group of emissaries that he was strong enough, and in enough control to take the next step in becoming an emissary. On February 11th, Gabriele presented him with a warm golden ring, to prove that he was officially an emissary-in-training, and a promise to let Stiles apprentice with him.

***

               Stiles arrived early on the morning of the 12th, his body aching and sore. His parents picked him up from the airport. "I'm never gonna travel again," Stiles said, as he stretched out across the back of the seat.

                "Not if you keep sitting like that, you'll end up dead if we crash," John said, glancing in the review mirror.

                "I'm hugely magical, I'll manage," Stiles said, but he still sat up and got buckled.

                "I'm so proud of you," Claudia said, and Stiles suddenly felt guilty. He had called his parents a few times a week, sometimes even more than that, the whole time he was away. There was a difference though, seeing them and just hearing them, and now he could feel how much they missed him.

                "I'm sorry you couldn't come to the ceremony," he said, tugging at the necklace he'd put his golden ring on.

                "We'll throw a huge party for it," Claudia said. "There will be a lot to celebrate. You'll be off somewhere being an apprentice soon, you'll probably be bonded in the next few days, and you'll have to choose a pack soon too."

                "Oh mum, don't cry!" Stiles said, leaning forward and wrapping his hand around her shoulder.

                "Happy crying!" she said, a little louder than she needed.

                "If nothing else, at least you can go through your _courting_ gifts," John said.

                "How many have you guys gotten in the mail?"

                "The guest room has become a storage room," John said and Stiles groaned. "A lot of it seems fine, but there is definitely a few things in there that are starting to rot and I can't find them."

                "Gross, you'd think that if they wanted to woo me, they'd at least learn to mail perishables to the address I was at," Stiles said.

                "We haven't been telling anyone," John said.

                "What?"

                "We haven't been telling packs where you are, after hearing about that alpha on the plane, we didn't want anyone else trapping you somewhere," John said. "Not all packs are as kind as the ones you've been with this last year."

                "It is lucky that so many of the strongest emissaries are just, freaking amazing people," Stiles said. They had breakfast together, chatting about what was to come, and when they finished, they drove to the festival.  

                "So, for real this time?" Claudia asked.

                "For real this time," Stiles answered. "Chasing me is gonna be the hardest thing he's ever done."

                "See you later," Claudia said and pressed a kiss on his check. "Love you."

                "Love you too," he said and then hugged her. "You too, daddy-o." He hugged his dad, took a blanket from him, threw it over his shoulders, then turned and headed into the forest. He walked steadily forward, following the normal path from the entrance to the first clearing they spent time in. Then to the next ones, throwing out the picnic blanket they had cuddled on, and then he ran.

               He made looping paths around the trees, ducking past people who had already settled or were running themselves. He doubled back over his trails, using magic to light up his footprints and match them. He climbed trees, using his magic to throw himself from one to the next laughing as he went. He kept going, further and further, even once he knew that his mate was coming. He kept running, with magic in his steps to make him go faster and farther than any human had the right to go. He didn't stop until he could hear his mate's pack howling their distress because they were still gone. It was dark now, so he stumbled to a halt when he found a clearing. Then he waited, his heart racing in his chest as he felt his mate coming closer and closer to him, and then he was there.

                There was only a second where his mate paused, momentarily unsure movements, and then he came toward him. His body shifting as he went until there was a man standing in front of him. Stiles breath caught in his throat because his mate was gorgeous, and Stiles had to stomp down the urge to fist punch the air. His face was made up of sharp lines, bright eyes, and dark stubble. His chest was rising and falling with the effort it had taken to chase Stiles down. "Hello, Wolf," Stiles said.

                "Derek," he said, and Stiles couldn't stop himself from smiling even more. Derek's voice sent a thrill up his spine, and he wanted to rush at him.

                "Stiles," he answered. Derek reached out for him, wanting to really touch him, but then he froze. "Scared?" Stiles whispered.

                "Terrified," Derek answered, his hand still extended toward him.

                "I've wanted to see you for ten years," Stiles said a little desperately.

                "I've wanted that too."

                "Then why are you hesitating?" Stiles asked, but he knew that Derek was waiting for his permission. Derek, ever patient and kind, seemingly was willing to wait forever for this. "I'm ready now," Stiles whispered and Derek surged forward. They threw their arms around each other, pulling so close there was barely room for air between them. They kissed with no skill or grace, banging teeth and foreheads, but Stiles didn't care. He couldn't stop laughing and smiling, he couldn't force himself to actually try and make the kiss good. Suddenly, Derek threw his head back and howled his victory. It echoed around them, letting his worried pack know they were safe and together. Stiles laughed, burying his face in the crook of Derek's neck. He held him tighter as something in his chest shifted, and settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, okay. I got stuck on Stiles POV and couldn't move past it, so I wrote this. He also had a lot more to say than Derek did, almost doubling the word count of the first chapter. I will post another chapter about their future together and lives. I hope to post it before November, because once that hits it's Nanowrimo time, and I always work on original stuff for that. 
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think of this one, and any questions or anything!


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